


Lexter

by welcometothenewhigh



Category: Dexter (TV), The 100 (TV)
Genre: A spin on the show Dexter, All of the victims are made up, Blood spatter analyst, Clarke is not in the PD, F/F, F/M, M/M, Miami, Miami Police Department, Multi, Serial Killers, the first scenario is based on the show, the title is a parody but the story is serious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 08:20:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12317295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/welcometothenewhigh/pseuds/welcometothenewhigh
Summary: Lexa Morgan has a good job at the Miami Police Department as a blood spatter analyst. She'd graduated top of her class, she could have gone anywhere in the country. Why did she pick Miami, Florida? Easy; there were murderers, rapists, kidnappers, abusers and more. It was a playing field where she could pick off the scumbags of society and she thrived. So she wouldn't be quitting her day job any time soon, not when she's the Bay Harbor Butcher.





	Lexter

Sometimes, she thought she had a choice. Other times, she realizes there is no stopping who she is, and what she does. Her name is Alexandra, but she prefers Lexa. It’s easier to say, and easier to scream as they lay dying by her hand. They, being her victims. She killed for the first time when she was 14 years old, of course it was an accident. That’s what she told police at least. As little Lexa was cowering, covered in blood and a thick blanket handed to her by the EMTs, she said it was self defense. In truth it was. It didn’t happen that night, but it had happened before and she refused to allow it once again.  
  
When her father came into her room, shushing her and leaning over, she knew it was time. Her left hand came from underneath her pillow, plunging a knife into his jugular and his eyes widened, lifelessly and he fell on top of her. She screamed and screamed, the hot red blood spewing all over her and soaking into her pajamas. Her bed was red, her carpet was stained. Arterial spatters splashed the headboard and Lexa stayed screaming until suddenly her dead father was pulled off her, and a wild-eyed neighbor picked her up.  
  
It wasn’t until the flashing red and blue lights in front of her that she began hearing again and seeing what was happening around her.  
  
“Are you okay? What happened here miss? Can you remember anything? Are you hurt?” It was question after question and all Lexa could do was say the truth. All she could was tell them was her father had done to her for so many years, as sick as it made her feel. From that night she lived with her Aunt Indra 7 states away in Florida. It was humid and muggy, there were too many people, too many stray animals, and too many run down streets and buildings and towns but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t learn to love it.  
  
Fast forward 10 years. Lexa was 24 years old, living in Miami with a million other people and she wouldn’t have it any other way. It made her invisible, just the way she preferred. Tonight she had a mark. It was a child rapist who’d been released on parole for good behavior, and Lexa stalked him as he stalked the children at this park. It was a beautiful day, there were parents and kids all over. Swinging, running, giggling and blowing bubbles. Happy. They were all happy. None of them had any idea what or who was lurking near. His name was Martin Crane. His sentence was supposed to be 15 years in prison for the assault of multiple little boys and girls, and murder of others. He was only caught when a neighbor knocked on the door, having it answered by a very bruised, confused child.  
  
That day he was arrested. His home had been littered in filth and pornography, proving his guilt. Martin got out on good behavior after 7 years and was released right back to the public. Lexa watched from her spot on the bench, as he adjusted his jeans and leered at a group of boys playing frisbee. Lexa’s inner passenger snarled at the display. She needed to kill him before he could hurt anyone else. After an hour of watching, the man got into a car and left. So Lexa followed. Shadowing him all day, as she’d done for a week now, she knew he was guilty as could be. It was as if Martin Crane went about his day looking for children. He went by schools, parks, busy streets with stores littered with kids and teens about. It was disgusting, and tonight was the night.  
  
He’d been inside this shady pub for almost 2 hours now, Lexa down at the other end of the bar keeping a keen eye on the man as he scrolled through his phone with a creepy smile. She’d walked by trying to see what he saw, but his darkness was fully down and she couldn’t stay long enough to look. The brunette had an idea though, and it made her sick. She had an M-99 shot in her pocket, ready and waiting. She sees her chance as he throws back another shot, standing and heading for the door. After his nightly drink he went home, where she’d already prepared a kill room in his garage. She’d follow him home, approach as a confused neighbor and make her move.  
  
When she shut off her car lights no more than 25 minutes later in a secluded like neighborhood, she watched Martin park too. He sat for a second, before getting out and Lexa was already approaching. She walked down the street, calling for a dog that wasn’t hers.  
  
“Sally!! Saaaally! Where are you girl?” She shouted, catching the attention of Martin. He looked for a second, before turning but she caught up with him. “Hey! Sorry to bother you so late, I was wondering if you’ve seen a dog running about today?” The man eyed her darkly, looking around before shrugging.  
  
“Can’t say I have.” He slurred, turning his back to her. Then she struck. The needle easily going into his neck, and he groaned while falling into her. Lexa was fit, very fit, and used to carrying dead weight. Pun intended. She dragged him inside through the backdoor of the garage she’d left unlocked. The smell of plastic, and death met her nose. For she had dug up his previous victims of all different states of decomposition. There was a young boy, a girl, and another boy. All under 10 it appeared. The girl was the most recent, as he seemed to begin expanding from boys. It was revolting.  
  
Lexa cracked an ammonia stick under his nose, wafting it until he shook awake, slurring and moving. However he was wrapped tight, unable to move anything but his mouth. Lexa watched his confused eyes realize what was going on.  
  
“Hi Martin Crane. Do you know why you’re here?” Her voice was deep, to instill fear in her victim as she’d done many times before. The man shook, opening his mouth and closing it before speaking.  
  
“Who are you?” She rolled her eyes. Why did they always ask that?  
  
“That doesn’t matter, because you won’t be remembering who I am. Martin, tell me. Why children?” He paled, his brows furrowing.  
  
“I don’t know what you mean!” He spit. She laughed, empty. She’d read his record. All of Miami basically had.  
  
“Yes, sure you do. Just take a look at these kids here. They were so young and full of life before you got to them. Before you fucking murdered them because you’re sick.” He swallowed hard, fighting against his restraints.  
  
“No! No! I didn’t… I didn’t mean to. I can’t help it.” Lexa sneered. What a monster. “Are you going to kill me?” Now her lips turned into a little grin.  
  
“No, I’m going to murder you. The way you did them.” With that, his screams began but she stuffed his own underwear in his mouth, laughing how he bugged his eyes. She produced a saw next, since he liked to decapitate the children and do awful things after. Lexa watched as her passenger took over, cutting his jugular apart until blood spewed and his eyes were lifeless. Until his head fell off his body, his bones and skin serrated easily and rolled. It was a relief. She’d taken out another piece of shit person in this big city. There were always more, but for now, one less pervert was out there.  
  
Taking down the kill room was just as easy as taking down her marks. Cut them all up, shove them into heavy duty garbage bags, along with the bloody plastic. Then she'd take a ride on boat, the Slice of Life, deep into the ocean and discard of the garbage. As she watched his body parts sink in the pacific, she felt lighter than she had in awhile.

**Author's Note:**

> I won't be using every scenario the show laid out for Dexter, I'll think of my own gruesome kills and victims but this was a play on the pilot episode so what do you think :3 //// didn't beta 100%, i was too excited.


End file.
